The Exception
by Lady Azar de Tameran
Summary: Completely Deceased. Harry contemplates the differences or lack thereof between the Dark Lord and himself. Ignores HBP.
1. The Exception

_**The Exception**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

"…": dialogue

(…): Random Thoughts

* * *

Dumbledore once stated that our choices define who we are. I believed him then, but now…

Hermione said that I have a "saving people thing" and that I am not the horrible person I perceive myself to be. If she only knew…

Ron … well, he doesn't say much of anything. He only gives me that look. You know … the one that says, "You are our hero and savior, the golden child of light." Ah, I think not …

Tom said that we were similar … that we were the same.

He was right…

We are identical, almost exact copies of one another. Down to the very last detail … except for one. There is one fundamental difference.

It's not that I am good and that he is evil. I do not truly believe in such things. Like Tom said, "There is no good and evil … there is only power and those to weak to use it." Only I don't believe the last part. Sure there is power … but it's more like those to weak to resist it…

(Ah … I am waxing philosophical again … yet another similarity I have with Tom.)

It is definitely not that I am a Gryffindor and he is a Slytherin. After all, I was almost a Slytherin, and I have it on good authority (if the Sorting Hat is to be trusted) that Tom was almost a Gryffindor … odd as it sounds.

Our difference isn't that I love and he doesn't. Everyone loves something. It's a proven fact. Sadly, the feeling isn't always directed at another person. Some love people … others an object or a place … or even an idea.

For Tom, it's power. He loves power. Well, I suppose that the same could be said about me … but that is a topic for another time…

(I seem to be sidetracked far too much lately. Further proof that I am Tom's long lost completely similar, but not quite identical, twin…

…Or perhaps it means that I just need to stay away from firewhiskey…)

Hell, even on the most basic level … it's not that my eyes are green (Avada Kedavra green I might add) and his are blue. Or that his hair (when he had hair) was more dark brunette than black (like mine).

No, not that either…

You want to know the real difference… The thing that truly sets us apart… That will lead to the destruction of one or both of us… That will forever change the Wizarding (and quite possibly the whole) world …

It's something so tiny, so miniscule that most people don't even realize its importance. They either just shrug it off (usually when it involves the little things) or wallow in it until they either spiral into destructive oblivion … or accept and move on.

…None of them have ever stopped to consider its importance… how it can change the very fabric of their lives.

Tom and I are so similar … virtually identical … except for one tiny fundamental thing …

… I know guilt …

And he doesn't.

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

T.S.T.


	2. The Exception Alternate Ending

_**The Exception**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

"…": dialogue

(…): Random Thoughts

* * *

Dumbledore once stated that our choices define who we are. I believed him then, but now…

Hermione said that I have a "saving people thing" and that I am not the horrible person I perceive myself to be. If she only knew…

Ron … well, he doesn't say much of anything. He only gives me that look. You know … the one that says, "You are our hero and savior, the golden child of light." Ah, I think not …

Tom said that we were similar … that we were the same.

He was right…

We are identical, almost exact copies of one another. Down to the very last detail … except for one. There is one fundamental difference.

It's not that I am good and that he is evil. I do not truly believe in such things. Like Tom said, "There is no good and evil … there is only power and those to weak to use it." Only I don't believe the last part. Sure there is power … but it's more like those to weak to resist it…

(Ah … I am waxing philosophical again … yet another similarity I have with Tom.)

It is definitely not that I am a Gryffindor and he is a Slytherin. After all, I was almost a Slytherin, and I have it on good authority (if the Sorting Hat is to be trusted) that Tom was almost a Gryffindor … odd as it sounds.

Our difference isn't that I love and he doesn't. Everyone loves something. It's a proven fact. Sadly, the feeling isn't always directed at another person. Some love people … others an object or a place … or even an idea.

For Tom, it's power. He loves power. Well, I suppose that the same could be said about me … but that is a topic for another time…

(I seem to be sidetracked far too much lately. Further proof that I am Tom's long lost completely similar, but not quite identical, twin…

…Or perhaps it means that I just need to stay away from firewhiskey…)

Hell, even on the most basic level … it's not that my eyes are green (Avada Kedavra green I might add) and his are blue. Or that his hair (when he had hair) was more dark brunette than black (like mine).

No, not that either…

You want to know the real difference… The thing that truly sets us apart… That will lead to the destruction of one or both of us… That will forever change the Wizarding (and quite possibly the whole) world …

It's something so tiny, so miniscule that most people don't even realize its importance.

They just shrug it off. Expect seconds and thirds. But those are so very rare. Yet, most demand them.

…None of them have ever stopped to consider the importance of only one… how it can change the very fabric of their lives.

Tom and I are so similar … virtually identical … except for one tiny fundamental thing …

… I had a chance …

…To be happy … to have friends … to be loved …

… That's the only difference …

I had one …

… And he didn't.

* * *

_ReginaLucifer_: Some ideas, usually story ideas, will knock around in my head for awhile. But this one didn't; it was just a random thought that occurred to my while I was reading other one-shots!

_TenshiOnna_: Thanks. I might add a few other random thoughts and feelings to this (much like what I did with the alternate ending). I think that this … er … story will be my place for such things, instead of just creating a new fic every time I think of something new.

_Evil Penguin Slayer_ and _Shadowface_: Thank you!

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

T.S.T.


	3. The Right Thing

_**The Right Thing**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

"…": dialogue

(…): Random Thoughts

* * *

I did a good thing, you know. The right thing.

I wept … I bled … I sacrificed …

I fought for the children. I protected the innocents (if anyone can actually be considered innocent).

I gave up my hopes, my dreams, my happiness … my life…

And they promised that they would be there forever … that they would always defend me, guide me … love me.

They lied.

I was replaced so easily … in their circle of friends … in their lives … in their hearts.

They promised me forever … and yet, less than a year later … they were gone.

And I was all alone…

…or maybe I have always been alone.

And I needed them so badly. I needed their guidance, their support, their knowledge, their laughter … I just needed them.

I never really had a mother before … not really. I don't hold it against my mum … she did die to save me. And then she came, the other mother. And she brought smiles … and later on hugs … and then kisses … and finally love (or maybe that came first)…

Now I can't even bear to speak her name… or any of their names. She is with her own children now … planning for the next generation of **_her_** family.

I never had siblings before … brothers and a sister. So much laughter and play fighting (well, and real fighting) … and, of course, pranking.

Now, when I need them most, they are gone. Some are with their spouses now. Some are with **_their_** brothers causing mayhem. The last is still in school, but she is busy now … too busy for me.

I never had friends before, real friends … ones that I haven't read in books or created in my mind. And my real friends … they were wonderful. He would sit with me constantly talking; usually in front of the fireplace … the light glittering on his head, making it look like it was on fire as well. She would also sit with me , though usually her head was stuck in a book. But that was fine, we didn't need to talk … the understanding was there and it was more than enough.

Now, they have left as well. But they are still together and I hear that bells might be ringing in **_their_** future.

I never had a father before. Then he came. Just a barking laugh and a pat on the back or a funny story of his school days, but it was all that I needed ... all that I wanted.

(When he died I thought that I had as well. Sometimes I wish that I had. Then I would never have experience what I am going through now)

But another came (well, he was there the entire time) and he made everything alright again. He was calm in the face of everything. He always understood what it was like. He was my protector, my friend.

Now, he is with another. Protecting her instead of me or instead of the three of us together. I hear that a trip (a quite literal one at that) to the church (or the Wizarding equivalent) is also in **_their _**future.

I never had a grandfather before. The ever-knowing, eternally wise, eye-twinkling kind. With a bemused smile and those little candies (well, and a great honking bird of fire). He was so powerful; he could do anything … anything at all. He could protect children … and rescue them from their hateful relatives … and use them as a weapon against a monster that he created in the first place.

Now, he is with his other "grandchildren" … attempting to ruin their lives as much as he ruined mine. But it is alright … it is all for the "greater good".

… I did what they wanted. What they had hoped for …prayed for …begged for …

And now they are all gone. They have left and they aren't coming back. They never will. Even though they could if they really wanted … but they don't. I have fulfilled my purpose. They all have **_their_** own lives to live now. They don't need me now.

I sweated fear … I cried blood … I have seen horrors that defy imagination ... I have looked in the face of evil ... and not bowed to it, not fallen to it ... I have defeated it ... and saved us all.

And it was all for nothing … absolutely nothing.

I did the correct thing … the honorable thing … the right thing …

And sometimes (alright, all of the time) …

I honestly wished that I hadn't.

* * *

_ReginaLucifer_, _meowcat00_, _vila-pv_: Thanks! This might eventually turn into a real fic. Currently, it is just a few drabbles from a story that has been bouncing around in my head. I just wanted to experiment with the format and the design.

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

T.S.T.


	4. Traitor

_**Traitor**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

"…": dialogue

(…): Random Thoughts

* * *

It's hard to believe that we had a traitor in our midst … and one so easily overlooked.

You asked if I know him … he-who-is-unnamed … Voldemort's biggest supporter.

Maybe … I thought I did, but who ever really knows someone else. Knows how they feel, what they think, who they really are.

Sure he's a pureblood, but that doesn't mean anything. Look at the Weasleys, purebloods the lot of them … but then they are considered blood traitors.

Our little traitor never was. Personally, I don't believe that he was ever thought of enough to earn such a title.

…But I guess it doesn't truly matter now. We all know where his true loyalties lie.

And we all overlooked him. Well, not all of us. There was something about him … I could always tell. For the most part I just wasn't sure what it meant … and when I finally realized, it was far too late for him.

But as for everyone else … they barely even noticed that he existed. Even his own family never really noticed him … and when they did … it was only too berate him … to constantly compare him to others … to his other relatives. He was always the weird one, the useless one.

Hell, even Voldemort overlooked him … in favor of another…

And look at him now. All those that were too busy, too good, too smart … all those that were **better** than him … look at them now. They cower and shriek if you even mention his name. All (well, almost all) fear to speak his name. He is right up there with Voldemort, and all that you-know-who rubbish.

But I don't fear it (his name) and I don't fear him. I was there almost from the beginning … I could see the evil form and spread within. But try as I might, I could not stop it. I could only watch … and pray.

And in the end all my prayers went unanswered. All that was left of that young boy I knew so long ago was a monster within a man.

Poor little boy: overlooked, underappreciated, never good-enough…

And look how he turned out… a liar, a betrayer, a murderer, a monster… a scared little boy who is surrounded by people yet all alone.

You asked if I know him. Yes, once upon a time I did (after all, I did share a dorm with him for six years)… but not now. I knew him as he was: a boy, a wizard, a Gryffindor, a friend…

I knew him as who he used to be (before the entire he-who-is-unnamed bit) … I knew him when he was still himself. When he was still…

Neville Longbottom.

* * *

AN: I know this is a rather odd format (telling a story through a series of brief remembrances and random thoughts), but I just wanted to experiment. Most likely the rest of the story will be told in similar fashion. Most of it (like all of the chapters thus far) will be told from Harry's point of view. However, occasionally it will be in the words of other characters … just not the ones you would normally suspect.

_ReginaLucifer_: Drifting apart from my friends and family is one of my greatest fears (along with losing them in any fashion). I imagine with Harry's upbringing he would greatly fear this as well. Further, I suspect that now (starting with the sixth book) his boggart is quite different than what it was earlier in the series.

_Nightwisp_, _Shadowface_: Thanks!

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

T.S.T


	5. Perspective

_**Perspective**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random Thoughts

_Italics_: Emphasis on a word or phrase

* * *

_Truth_. 

It is what everyone strives for, or at least what most desire … the truth.

Do you want to know the truth? Do you truly want to know? Do you want to know the supposed _beauty_ of it? When in reality it is naught but horror, unimaginable horror … of little children shrieking, of mother's shielding their young, of father's fighting even with their last breath, of blood (so much blood), of pain and tears … of death …

Do you really want to know?

The perfect little tales that are nothing but fiction wrapped within the mantel of reality. The twisted words and half-lies that lead people to believe a certain thing, the thing that someone else wanted them to believe. That someone else has depicted as everlasting, always real, forever universal … as _truth_.

Truth is simply a matter of perspective. It all depends on who you are and how you view the world.

Truth is all perception. What you see, or think that you see.

Ahh … so now you want to know _my_ truth. Reality as I perceive it.

I see myself … I see me as not perfect, as essentially neutral (I am still not sure if good and evil truly exist). I have plenty of faults. I am brave to the point of being foolhardy. I am strong in some things, but ever so weak in others. I care … far too much, about people that probably don't deserve it (after all, they are traitors and betrayers). I feel guilt (ever so much guilt) about things I know in my heart are not my fault. I crave power, but only for defense and protection … only for the innocents (the _true _innocents).

But this is not all that I see. I see far more than just me.

I see others; I perceive the monsters hidden within. The _wolf _in sheep's clothing. I observe the demons within people (ever so inoffensive looking people).

I see people thinking that evil has been vanquished. That has been annihilated. That they are now free. They think that evil is gone, that only "good" remains.

How very wrong they are …

I see them walking by, ensconced within their perfect, rose-tinted view of the world. I see them ignoring the screams, the pleas, the pain, the violence.

They turn their heads; pretend to not hear. They look away; pretend to not see.

But I hear … and I see …

So I help.

All it takes for evil to flourish is for a _good_ man (or woman) to do nothing. Well, they are certainly not good and they are certainly doing nothing…

As you can imagine, the evil is now everywhere.

Does it make me a _good _person … do my actions … my assistance make me good? I don't know. And deep down I am afraid to find out…

(Good and evil are like truth … all are a matter of perception. What is _good_ to one is not _good_ to another… But I am off topic).

What? Why are you smiling? Is my resistance at calling myself _good_ amusing you that much? Maybe it is … maybe the "defeater of evil"; maybe a "savior" not thinking himself good is amusing. (Hm … now even I am smiling).

… You are nothing like the others. You are still _true_. You speak in truth, real truth, universal truth. That is such a rare thing to find.

You have such wisdom as though you have seen so much (well, I suppose someone as old as yourself has seen a great deal), and yet no one listens to you. No one is willing to listen … and you could save them all.

Every year you speak to them, warn them. But they never listen … and it is their children who will suffer… and evil shall reign.

But maybe there is something we can do, you and I. Something far more proactive than whispering warns (or rather shouting and singing warnings).

Maybe… it could work … but …

Ah, I see. You know what I have in mind (you always know what is in my mind) … Ever wise you _truly_ are.

… So now I will write this down. This conversation we are having. I will take this memory and preserve it. Let it become part of myself … and part of what I will one day leave behind. I will take the sum of myself … and maybe part of you as well, and make them a protector. For one day they (the others) will _truly_ need it, and we might just not be here anymore.

Tom did have the right idea, you know … leaving part of himself behind. But unlike him I am not doing it for immortality. I do it so that there will be at least one _good_ person left (well, in a way) to defend the innocents.

Yes … this will work. All we need is time. But time, like truth, is in short supply.

But maybe … just maybe, we might make it.

We might just have enough of both.

* * *

AN: This started out as being an introspection on truth, but some how it seem to have a mind of its own. Fifty House points if you can guess the identity of the second _person_. Another fifty points if you can guess what they are planning. 

Oh, another note … I will try to update _Child of Grace_ sometime before Tuesday. _How to Tell the Truth from the Lies_ will probably be updated about the fifth or sixth of March, but I am making no promises because my sister is coming to visit around that time.

* * *

Ever Hopeful, 

Azar


	6. The Beginning

_**The Beginning**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random Thoughts or Ideas

_Italics_: Journal Entry

**Bold**: Emphasis

* * *

_**Journal Entry: July 26th, 1996:**_

_All of my life I have never been enough. Never good enough. Never smart enough. Never powerful enough. Never **normal** enough._

_I have just never been **enough**._

_(Maybe that is my fate. Maybe this is my "power the dark lord knows not". The ability to never be **enough**. Hmm… wouldn't that just be plain ironic. A Dark Lord defeated by some bloke with the ability to be a loser. Wow, makes me feel really proud.)_

_At first I thought it was just the Dursleys. I thought they were just being difficult, that they were lying to me when they called me a freak. In wasn't until later that I realized they were right. That I **was** (and still very much **am**) a freak._

_Then I arrived at Hogwarts (funny how everything always comes back to Hogwarts…) and I realized that I was supposed to be some sort of hero … that I was supposed to be this "savior". How was I ever supposed to live up to that kind of expectation? _

_Of course, I didn't. I was never good **enough**._

_First it was the disastrous Norbert incident in my first year, which lost us 150 points. Then, it was the whole Parselmouth/Heir of Slytherin fiasco in my second year. Followed by the "Werewolf/Sirius Black/Buckbeak/the Ministry is a Bunch of Morons" incident third year. Then the Triwizard Tournament … and Cedric … during fourth year. Finally, just weeks ago, the Department of Mysteries and Sirius …_

_I mean let's face facts here. I am **NO** savior. I can't even save myself (especially from my rather abusive relatives). I have enough problems of my own; you can't expect me to solve everyone else's. I am just not that good._

_Academically, I am only average (but that might have something to do with never studying). Well, at least, I think I am only average. The only grades I have ever really seen are Hermione's and Ron's, so that might not be the best way to judge my scholarly standings (and I am still not sure how I did on my O.W.L.S. Maybe a miracle has happened and I have done quite well … but probably not) …_

_And magically … oh, I won't even go there. For Merlin's sake, I had problems learning a Summoning Charm (Accio); now I am supposed to kill a Dark Lord and end his villainous reign…_

_I think not…_

A small, beady eye scanned the emerald writing on a worn page. A large (and rather out of place) grin formed upon a scarred face, as an equally mutilated man read the entry. He let out a barking laugh as he reached the end of the page, lifting a marked hand to turn the page.

Mad-Eye Moody was finding this journal to be quite enlightening and enjoyable (well, enjoyable only in certain places).

Leaning upon the far wall, a tiny, bearded man smiled jovially. He (having read the journal earlier) could understand the old Auror's amusement at a select number of the entries. Near the tiny man, a young lady, with hair like honey streaked with gold and silver, perched precariously upon a desk. She nodded her head in understanding (having also read the journal) as she played with the tip of a patched and frayed Wizard's hat. The hat merely smirked.

Moody continued to laugh. His second (ever-whirling) eye was currently showing its white back as it focused on a far younger man standing directly beyond his left shoulder. Emerald eyes rolled as the older man guffawed again. The golden skinned young man turned away in amused disgust and smoothly glided to a desk along the wall. He seated himself gently upon the solid chair, grinning at the young lady as he sat. He shook his head in quiet defeat, tossing ebony locks.

Deciding to ignore the ever-laughing ex-Auror, the young man again smiled. "Well, Gentlemen and gentle lady," the golden skinned youth stated mannerly, "I believe that it is time we get down to business."

* * *

AN: All right I lied. _Child of Grace_ will probably not be updated for awhile. Sorry, but I am just not happy with what I have planned out for the story. I wrote out the next chapter but it is now in the rubbish bin because I just didn't like what I wrote. Also, it seems as though my muse for the plot has abandoned me. I might have to put it on hiatus until I can rearrange the storyline and find a new muse. 

On another note, the other person in the last chapter was the Sorting Hat (kudos to _verdragon_ for guessing correctly). I thought about including Mad-eye in it as well but decided to place him in another chapter (I bet you can guess which one). As for what they are planning … well, we will get to that in future chapters.

_ReginaLucifer_: I am sorry I forgot to mention you last chapter, so a late thanks for reviewing. I am happy this is now a story as well. I have a general idea where this is going, but it is not set in stone. I am letting my feelings and thoughts dictate what I write each chapter (basically making it up as I go along).

_Verdragon_: Yes, it is the Sorting Hat (such an underutilized character).

_Nora01_: Thanks for the review. However, it was not Dumbledore but rather the Sorting Hat. In chapter three, I alluded to the fact that Dumbledore and Harry had a falling out, so it wouldn't have been the Headmaster.

_Shadowface_: Thanks!

* * *

Ever Hopeful, 

Azar


	7. She Wept

_**She Wept**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random thoughts or ideas

_Italics_: Thoughts and emphasis

**Bold**: Emphasis

* * *

She wept…

And looked at them through the tears. Watched as they played their cruel games, her eyes gleaming with pity for their victim, sorrow that they could treat another person like this, hate for them … and loathing for herself because she could do nothing.

She cried as she watched the innocence, the hope … wither and die within _his_ eyes, leaving nothing but despair and dark understanding.

She watched them mock him, harass him, torment him. Yet, through it all he never retaliated. He just looked at them with those eyes (those sparkling eyes) and with understanding.

He knew why they did it. It was not because they hated him, but because they hated themselves. They hated the inadequacy within themselves. Yet, they did not try to fix it, they did not strive to be better; they took it out on the one worthwhile person around.

…And worthwhile he was (and still is) and so very wonderful. When he smiled the whole world was made right. Those eyes (her eyes) would gleaming and sparkle, catching even the slightest bit of light…

_But they didn't notice any of it!_ She just wanted to scream. _Look! Just look at him, you bastards, look at how wonderful and good he is! See him! Not that image you built in your heads!_

But they never did. They looked (and glanced and stared at) but they never _saw_.

One moment he was their _hero_, their _savior_. Next, he was their whipping boy.

And then they would tease him and hurt him. Yet, even after all of it, he saved them all.

And the others, the ones that stood by (never for him), and never protected him nor helped him. Sometimes they would pretend, just for show, to make themselves feel better. But he knew … he knew it was all a lie. Yet, he would never call them on it.

They were supposed to be _his_ friends. They were supposed to be _her_ friends.

Yes, there were some. Some that were real. Some that helped him, protected him, _loved_ him. But they were few and far between.

They were true. The star dog. The crystal eyed angel. The paranoid Auror. The bubbly professor. The psychotic Hat. The enchanted castle. Hell, even the prophetess of doom and gloom. They were all true.

The others were not.

_The others_, she would sometimes think. _Yes, the others. That **creature **that pretended to be a man (the wolf in sheep's clothing). The hoard of red-headed demons. But most of all that twinkling eye, bloody hypocrite… Oh, there aren't even foul enough words to describe these back-stabbing, lying, thieving, murderous bunch of traitorous, treacherous brutes._

(She wept at the realization that these people, the people she had loved, were absolutely worthless and horrible. She cried when she realized that their eternal resting place would most definitely not be where she was… they were damned, so they tried to damn her baby.)

She stormed and stomped, while cursing these people. These people that she had trust with him, her darling, her baby, her little angel … with **_HER SON_**!

He should have let them die! Just as they would have (tried to do) to him.

But he was better than that, he was far better than them. She knew that. She had watched him grow into the fine man he is today. She had watched as he struggled, as he strained, as he finally triumphed … the light and hope returning to his eyes.

And all the while … as she watched, as she screamed and pleaded to deaf ears for them to help her baby, as she whispered and tried to comfort him …

She wept.

* * *

_ReginaLucifer_ and _meowcat00_: Thanks! I love the Sorting Hat. It is such an underutilized character.

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_


	8. The Greater Good

_**The Greater Good**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random thoughts or ideas

_Italics_: Thoughts and emphasis

**Bold**: Emphasis

AN: Um… a warning. This chapter has some slight language in it.

* * *

Five little words … just five. Words that have changed not only my life, but the lives of all those around me. Just five little words … that sent my entire world … my entire universe crumbling, crashing down.

Five little words that took two of the most precious, wonderful people from me. Five little words that destroyed my best friend's (brother's) life. Five little words that endangered the one I love most of all … and sent him to his doom (or close to it)…

_All for the greater good_.

…And I know what Harry would say to that, what he would would say to Dumbledore… _What about **me**? What about what was good for **me** … what was best for **me**? Did you ever stop to think about that? Was it always about you and what was best for **them**? What about my parents? What about **Sirius**?_

… And that bastard knew … **HE KNEW** … all this time. _He knew_ why Voldemort was after Harry. _He knew_ why so many people were dying. _He knew_ **_everything_**!

And most of it … the death, the deceit, the treachery … was all orchestrated by _him_.

_He_ knew why Voldemort was chasing after Lily and James. _He_ knew the Longbottoms (Frank and Alice … and little Neville) were all in danger. Yet, _he_ didn't tell them anything. He just let go in blindly.

Mark my words … had Dumbledore been the Secret Keeper, Voldemort would still have killed my brother and his wife (my sister).

Hell, _he_ even knew that I was innocent and that Peter (that bastard, that rat) was guilty. But did _he_ do anything? … No, _he_ didn't. _He_ left me to rot, while Harry (my precious Harry, my _son_ by everything that truly matters) was left to fend for himself. A child (**_my child_**) was left with them … those monsters that paraded around in mantel of normalcy, pretending to actually be human.

And I know why _he_ did it. I know why Harry had to go to the Dursleys. It was not because Harry needed to be raised away from his fame or that he was in danger (though he was) … it was because Dumbledore needed control. _He_ needed my son to be malleable and naïve. _He_ needed a faithful follower; _he_ needed someone _he_ could mold into a weapon. _He_ could not risk me raising my son. Oh no, not that because then _he _wouldn't have control. I would have made sure that Harry was independent, that he was free to be whatever he chose to be. And Dumbledore would never allow that. _He _needed someone that would only support _him_.

And that was exactly what he thought _he_ had … but I know different. My son is far smarter than everyone thinks. He is a true Slytherin (and I am proud to say it). He had everyone fooled, even that old bastard. Everyone thought that he was a Golden Child (and I admit that he is) but they never knew that he was also a Silver Serpent. My Harry knew from the beginning that things would be expected from him; he knew that it would be far better to be underestimated and overlooked. He knew and I knew … and we had everyone else fooled.

I come from a dark family. I am dark, my brother is dark, and my son is dark.

…But dark does not mean evil … and light does not mean good. Dumbledore proves that.

_He_ pretends that _he_ is this wise old man, that _he_ is caring and kind. _He_ pretends to be everyone's best friend, their grandfather as it were. Yet, _he_ uses people … and when _he_ is done _he_ just throws them away (like _he_ did with my Harry). And if they won't go away … well, Dumbledore has been known to _remove_ people … permanently.

Dumbledore only manipulates and lies. And _he_ says that _he_ does what is in the best interest of the majority. In the best interest of those bloody cowards that would sooner sell out their own friends, their own kin (their own flesh and blood), their own families (whether it be by spirit or blood) … than stand for what was _decent_, for what was _good_, for what was _right_.

_He_ lies and betrays and manipulates … and does a hundred other unspeakable things. Hell, _he_ even sent me to my death and used my son to do it. But it is all okay. It is _all for the greater good_.

…And _he_ thinks that I am gone, that I am dead. But I know different. And my son knows different (he has known all along). I am back, though only can hardly say that I ever left. Dumbledore said I was gone, _he_ said I was dead. But I was merely … _misplaced_ … and with the help of my son I am … ha … _found_ again.

_He_ twisted my brother against us, against Harry. The Maker only knows what kind of spells _he_ used against Remus. I can only guess that _he_ used something far fouler than the _Imperious Curse_. Something that not only ensnares the mind, but tries to break it or twist it. And little Nymphadora (the one that _should be_ my cousin) … I know that _she_ is in on it. _She_ has forced herself on my brother. _She _has forced him to marry her and to abandon Harry.

I saw the pain in my son's eyes when he thought that another who was father to him was now lost, when he believed that Remus had betrayed him. But he knows the truth now, and he will help Remus just as he helped me.

…And don't even get me started on the red-headed hoard … or that bushy haired hypocrite. Now don't get me wrong, they were once friends of both my son and I (though Dumbledore arranged it to be so) … but now they are only betrayers. I don't know why they turned on us and I probably never truly will … all I know is that they did.

It began when my son was in his fourth year, during the tournament, when his supposed best friend abandoned him. _He _(I won't lower myself to name him) had this look in his eyes, this gleam. Both Harry and I knew that _he_ was only in it for the notoriety of being friends with the-boy-who-lived. Fame by proxy as it were.

And yet, Harry took _him_ back. My son knew … but still … he took _him_ back. Harry believes in forgiveness and second chances, even when people don't deserve either. He believes that people can change and that they can better themselves.

But Harry won't forgive _them_ now; far too much damage has been done. He won't be forgiving the Weasleys … nor Granger … and especially not that lying, treacherous Headmaster.

…and I sincerely hope that one day they will all get what is coming to them. Maker help me I will beg you for it. Make those Weasleys understand the pain of abandonment. Make Granger know treachery. Make Dumbledore (that bloody, bleeding bastard) pay for all of his sins. Make _him_ pay for all of the lies, for all the deaths …

Maker just make _him_ stop. Prevent _him_ from doing any of it anymore…

…That truly would be for _the greater good_.

* * *

AN: Hehe, I just could not stand Remus as a bad guy, so I had to make it where he was under a spell. And well, it does (as they say) make the plot much deeper and convoluted. Oh, and the next chapter of _How to Tell the Truth from the Lies_ will be delayed. As I said on my author's page, I am playing Kotor II: The Sith Lords. I would very much like to beat it before break is over.

_Nora01_: Thanks! Yes, Luna is the angel. The bubbly professor is Flitwick (I can't believe that no one got the reference). The red headed hoard is the Weasleys. And Remus was the monster, but he was … er … framed.

_ReginaLucifer_: The POV was Lily's. I believe that you can guess whose POV this chapter is in.

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_


	9. Fear and the Savior

_**Fear and the Savior**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random thoughts or ideas

_Italics_: Thoughts and emphasis

**Bold**: Emphasis

AN: Um… a warning. This chapter has some slight language in it.

* * *

Most of my life I have been afraid … of the Dursleys, of my muggle classmates and Dudley's gang … and later on when I was at Hogwarts I feared the Wizarding World and their biased views.

I am just a bloody coward.

Hell, I was even afraid of myself. I feared what I would become… _who_ I could become.

I was afraid when I discovered the prophecy. I admit it.

I was afraid, when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that all it came down to was him and me. That at most, only one of us would walk away.

I was afraid. Fear … it burned in my blood and I wept (I admit that too).

I tasted it (coopery with a hint of malice) … I smelled it (like death clinging to the very air I breathed)… Great Maker I _felt_ it (scorching its way through my veins all the way to my heart).

The knowledge that I had to face down one of the greatest wizards in history … The knowledge that I was to become either murdered … or a murderer…

I knew that I would lose. I mean, how could I possibly win? How could I possibly defeat him … he was so much older, so much more versed in magic than I. How could I defeat him … when I had no confidence, no faith in myself … when I had everything to lose (my _friends_, my family, my _life_) and almost nothing to gain?

I knew that even by some miniscule oddity of fate, if I won … ultimately I would lose. The Wizarding World would again abandon me, they wouldn't need me anymore. My _friends_ would leave; I just knew that they would. There were never really with me at all.

And my family (not counting the Dursleys, for I have severed all ties with them), well they were mostly dead. My parents, my grandparents, Sirius (well, I thought so at the time). All that was left was Remus … but even then I was afraid. I thought … I feared that something would happen to him and he would be taken from me. Which in away my fear was realized except he didn't die like I thought he would.

I was just so very I afraid.

And it happened. And then _he_ happened. He came back to me.

He saved me from myself.

He believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. He protected my when I couldn't (or wouldn't) protect myself.

I owe my life to my father, not James the other one (though I guess you could say James as well). The whole bloody, backstabbing Wizarding World owes itself to my father, Sirius … one of the only people who had ever helped me. One of the precious few who had ever really known _me_ (not that bloody Boy-Who-Lived façade), and probably the only person currently alive that actually loves _me_.

They, all of them, owe everything to someone they fear, to someone they think is a demon incarnate.

Ironic isn't it.

But then … irony is one of the things Sirius does best.

Sirius … he made it all okay again. He made _me_ okay again.

He chased away the nightmares and the horrors. He battled my inner demons when I wasn't strong enough. He made my fear melt away.

…And through it all, there was a smile on his face.

I look at the Wizarding World … the betrayers, the backstabbers, the confused, the curious … I look at them all … and they have called me villain and monster and hero and savior. But I am not really any of those. I am just a boy (well, a man now) and friend and son … who tried to do the right thing.

I am not the hero … no, I am most definitely not. I am not a savior. If you want one of those you will have to look elsewhere … look to my father. He's the hero, the savior …

And, sadly, no one but me will ever know.

* * *

_Nora01_: Thank you! Yes, you are correct. We can't have Remus as the bad guy now, can we?

_ReginaLucifer_: Thanks. Don't worry, those traitors will their comeuppance. On another note, I just couldn't have Remus as a bad guy. I love him too much for that.

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_


	10. Forgive and Forget

_**Forgive and Forget**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random thoughts or ideas

_Italics_: Thoughts and emphasis

* * *

_He_'s in there, in that room. He's just behind the door. I know that he is still there because Alastor has kept his eye on him the entire time, quite a disturbing concept actually.

But he's still in there, waiting … watching; just like I have been for the past year. I have waited for this moment. I have prayed for this moment. I have begged and pleaded for this moment.

…And now … I have no idea what to say.

What can I say? I loved him so much (and I still do). I love him; he is my father in everything that matters. But he left me!

And I hated him deep inside. I hated that he ignored me. I hated that he left me. I hated that he chose _her_ over me. But in the very depths of my mind… I prayed that it was a mistake or maybe a spell. That he didn't really mean any of it.

And now I know that it was. That he really didn't mean to leave, that he was forced into it. He didn't mean any of it. He didn't mean to hurt me, to mock me … to say all those horrible things … to tell me that he hated me and that he wished I had died instead of Sirius (not that he is really dead, but still…).

Sirius stands besides me, his hand on my shoulder. I look into his eyes and see the blue and silver fire burning. He is thinking exactly the same thing (well, maybe not the _exact_ thing). Siri is thinking about what _he_ did … about how _he_ abandoned me, about how _he_ chose _little Nymphie_ over me.

And, yet, deep in his heart … Sirius knows that it isn't his fault, just as I know it.

I sniffle then and a tear tries to make its way down my face, but I hastily wipe it away. I feel Sirius squeeze my shoulder, trying to comfort me. But I merely sniffle again.

I quickly glance around the room to see if anyone else has noticed. Alastor is in the corner, one eye (the magical one) focused on the other room and the other eye on the Quibbler article that he is reading. Trelawney, Flitwick, Fawkes, and the Sorting Hat are here as well. All four are at the table, playing poker with what looks like a tarot card deck (which is quite an amazing feat because that blasted hat as it has no hands).

And Luna … she is right beside me, her hand on my back rubbing soothing circles. She knows, she saw … but does not comment. What can she possibly say?

It just hurts so badly. Knowing that it was all a façade doesn't make it hurt any less. It doesn't dull the pain. It only intensifies it…

I should have known. I should have figured it out sooner. How could I not have known? Remus loves me… he would never willingly betray me! How did I miss it? Was I so consumed by the other betrayals that I figured … what's one more? _Great Maker, how did I miss the signs?_

_How did I not know?_

I can feel an arm slip around my waist as my tears finally begin to fall. She whispers to me and wipes them away with her free hand, "It will be alright, love. I am here. Everything will be alright."

But deep inside … I am so afraid that Luna is wrong. Maybe it will never be _alright _again.

But I have to go in there. I have to speak to him. I have to tell him the truth, tell him that I forgive him, that I hate him … that I love him … that I just want him back in my life, that I need him.

I have to tell him but everything that has occurred in the past year keeps coming to the forefront of my mind … the hurtful words, the arguments, the betrayals, the abandonment. It all keeps coming back. I just can't forget it … any of it.

I can't forget. I can forgive, I have forgiven (him at least). But I can never, ever forget.

…And that thought only makes me cry harder.

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_


	11. All is Right in the World

_**All is Right in the World**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random thoughts or ideas

_Italics_: Thoughts and emphasis

* * *

_He_'s in there, you know. He, my son, is just a room away. I could go in there and see him, speak to him, hold him … just tell him how very sorry I truly am.

I could go but I am so very afraid. He knows the truth now. He has freed me from the backstabbing, machinating Headmaster.

And yet, I am afraid that he will never be able to forgive me. I am afraid he won't forgive me for not being strong enough, for not being able to resist. I am just a bloody coward … like I have always been.

I know in my head that it is, was, and never will be my fault. Yet, my heart knows differently. It knows that when he really and truly needed me the most, I failed my son. And everyday, every time I look at him, every time I see him sad or frightened or angry… I will remember that I am nothing but a failure.

I just wasn't strong enough to stand against the Headmaster. I wasn't strong enough to help my own son.

They say that when you are under _Imperious_ it is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world. You are free and exhilarated. You don't have a care in the world. You just do whatever you are told.

And all of this is true. I have had _Imperious_ cast on me before and it felt just like that. But the curse the Headmaster cast on me was nothing like that. No feeling of freedom. No exhilaration. No care free attitude. You are aware of everything that goes on around you.

_Imperious_ can be fought. _Imperious_ can be conquered. But I wasn't under _Imperious_. I was under something ten thousand times worse.

I was aware of everything. I knew exactly what I was doing. I was aware of every hateful world, of every betraying action. _But I just couldn't stop myself_.

I was doing all sorts of horrible, unforgivable things… and deep inside I was screaming at myself to stop.

_But I just couldn't._

There was no bliss. There was no freedom. I was in a body, my body, but I was trapped. I was forced to watch as I (but not really me) did unspeakable things and I could do nothing to stop myself. I was forced into things that I never would have chosen on my own. Little Nymphie… Great Maker knows that there was no way in seven hells that I ever would have chosen her. And yet I was forced to… I was forced to do things that I wish that I could forget, things that (if I am to retain any degree of sanity) I _need_ to forget…

I hurt my son in the worst ways imaginable. It was me … but it wasn't really me. It was my body doing all these things but my heart and my mind and my soul were all begging for it to stop.

I hurt my son in the worst possible ways and I am afraid that he will never forgive me, for I will never be able to forgive myself.

And my brother, Sirius, I betrayed him as well even though I thought him dead at the time. I didn't even know he was alive until he freed me. I was in my home (the home I shared with _her_) in the still cursed state where my body went through all the motions with my soul trapped inside.

One minute I was about to engage in things with _her_ that would have surely sent my sanity to the breaking point… and the next I was finally free, truly free, and _she_ was lying in a bloody, broken heap on the floor. Much of what happened afterwards is a blur. All I remember is a weepy reunion with my brother and a much needed comeuppance with a certain Metamorph.

As they say, revenge is a dish best served cold. The Headmaster would do to remember that…

…After an eternity of brooding and berating myself I hear the door open. I look up and there he is. Sirius is standing directly behind him, hands on my son's shoulders like he is afraid that my son might try to run away. Red-rimmed emerald eyes stare at the floor.

"Harry." I whisper and he finally looks at me. I rise from the chair I have brooded in for the last hour. "Harry, I am…" I try but I can't say it. "I am so …"

Emerald eyes stare at me and he steps closer; Sirius remains by the door. He walks toward me slowly, not saying anything. He now stands in front of me gazing into my eyes as though searching for answers.

I try to say the words again and I finally succeed, "I am so very … sorry. I am sorry … my son." I look at him hopefully but all I receive is a blank look. "I shouldn't ask you this, not after all I have done, but could you … I mean … can you ever forgive me?"

An eternity in a second passes as he blinks and then smiles, "I already have."

I exhale and the world becomes hazy due to tears. My son and my brother are here with me. I am free. I have vengeance. I am forgiven…

All is right in my world.

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar _


	12. Whispers in the Wind

_**Whispers in the Wind**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random thoughts or ideas

_Italics_: Thoughts and emphasis

Warnings: Character Death

* * *

"Well, she's dead Remus."

I turn to look at Remus as I hear this statement. Intellectually, I know that he should feel something: hate, anger, grief … relief. Yet, somehow as I watch him I realize that he couldn't really bring himself to care either way. Tonks was dead and he just couldn't bring himself to be happy nor sad about it. He was just sort of … blah. That same feeling you have just after you wake up and can't seem to find the energy to actually get out of bed. He just felt … well, he didn't seem to actually feel anything.

And that's what probably made my heart wrench. Anger, I can understand. Grief, I can understand. Relief, I can understand. But, numbness… no, he shouldn't feel that. He shouldn't still feel numb. Not about Tonks. He shouldn't still feel numb about his entire experience under Albus' spell. I had thought him more recovered than that… Perhaps I should mention it Fawkes; he is our resident Healer after all.

"And, she's not the only one." Sirius continues, interrupting my reverie. "Two more members of the Order are dead. Six are critical and might not make it. The rest of the lot have some bruises and curse-marks but are basically fine."

"Well, that's just so sad and too bad." Moody sarcastically comments as he inserts himself into the conversation. Clearly, he doesn't feel the least bit sad about the Order's predicament. "That's what they get for not following basic safety protocols." He rolls his natural eye. "Imagine," He mumbles more to himself than to us, "Not even putting their new Headquarters under _Fidelius_." He snorts gruffly. "Anyone could just waltz right in…"

"…And that's exactly what the Death Eaters did." Sirius adds somewhat seriously, eliciting uneasy murmurs from the other people at the table.

"And where was Albus during all this?" The Sorting Hat questions suspiciously, his brim flaring.

Sirius looks a slight bit aggrieved. Yet, at the same time he somehow manages to also look hostile. "Well, supposedly he had just left to return to Hogwarts for some reason or another." He snorts disdainfully, "But I don't buy it. We all know that he is a slippery, slimy bastard; so, for all we know, he might have been in on it."

The others nod and seem to be thinking over what he had just said.

"True," I comment, adding my three Knuts in. It all seems a bit dodgy to me… not that I am one to talk as I am not currently being the most honest person in my given profession. I have been lying to my employer (and to the rest of the Wizarding World) about my abilities for the last nineteen years.

"Why was there even an Order meeting?" Luna asks gently, again interrupting my thoughts.

"Hmm," Moody states articulately, "Well, the nearest I could discern from our little spy is that they were discussing a recent rise in Death Eater activity."

"What?" Remus questions with confusion. His expression clearly asking, 'What Death Eaters… much less, what activity.'

"What rise in Death Eater activity?" He asks again, fearing that he had missed something significant during his … er… _captivity_. "I thought that they were all but completely gone, either dead or in prison."

"That's what I thought, as well." The Sorting Hat interjected. "Unless it was all a lie," It adds. "Unless the Order only said that the Death Eaters were gone."

"Well, there have been whispers lately, rumors that the Order _did_ lie about the Death Eaters." I state (with what to my employer would be surprising intelligence, though it is not surprising to anyone who really knows me).

I am far cleverer than anyone had ever given me credit. I have all but a trusted few fooled into thinking that I am nothing but a crock, a false Seer. I have even duped one of the most powerful wizards in the world into believing my act. I managed to even convince the wily old Headmaster that the prophecy I gave him over nineteen years ago was my first true prophecy. And I still have him fooled, for even now I remain a trusted member of the staff of Hogwarts (as does Filius). Though I have to admit it has been difficult and actually quite amusing (as least to me), as Harry can attest much to his chagrin. All those delightfully funny false prophecies I have spewed over the years (about his early and young demise) are still a source of much amusement to his father Sirius.

Remus looks at me as though he is also thinking about my successful subterfuge. I notice his glance and smile back at him.

"… My contacts in the Circle told me that they have heard whispers of an evil rising in the East." I continue and everyone else nods at my statement, knowing that I am referring to the Circle of Circe (an underground network of Seers, Druids, and other workers of unusual magics).

"Yes, we have heard that from our friends there as well." Harry indicates both he and his girlfriend Luna.

"What else have they told you?" Moody asks, his beady natural eye gleaming.

They shrug, "Not much. Everyone simply talks of whispers. You know, the rumors." Luna comments softly.

I remain silent throughout the entire exchange, an odd remembrance coming to mind. I finally open my mouth to speak, my voice taking on (what Sirius refers to as) my "I'm about to make so kind of cryptic comment" tone. "Whispers," I murmur, trying to remember. "Whispers … whispers in the wind; a Dark blight and evil in the East are forming. Betrayers and murders teamed with Light in the West are meeting."

Luna, apparently making a connection with my words that other don't, adds, "Old foes thought dead or conquered are returning…"

"With only the Shadows in the middle to save us all." Harry completes, also contributing to the exchange.

Yes, they both know it. Good.

I smile widely at both of them. "You two have seen the connection as well."

Both Harry and Luna nod.

"What connection?" asks a completely confused Filius Flitwick.

I just laugh. "What we three have just recited," I indicate Harry, Luna, and myself, "was an old … _saying_," I hesitate with the word, "of my great-grandmother."

"Great-grandmother?" Remus question. "Cassandra Trelawney …" Something occurs to him in that moment and he seems not to really like where it leads him, "Wait, your great-grandmother is Cassandra Trelawney. _The infamous Seer_."

Sirius' eyes widen in understanding and he looks at me suspiciously, "Saying … you mean prophecy don't you." Sirius questions, clearly not liking where this was going. Everyone else waits for my answer with baited breath.

I smirk wickedly, "But of course." My words ring out and bring silence to the rest of the group. The significance of what I had just said not lost on anyone.

"Damn, just what we need," Moody states gruffly and rather sarcastically, interrupting the mounting quiet, "Another blasted prophecy."

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_


	13. The Grey Inbetween

**_The Grey In-between_**

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random thoughts or ideas

_Italics_: Thoughts and emphasis

Warnings: None

* * *

_Whispers in the wind  
__A Dark blight and evil  
__in the East are forming,  
__Betrayers and murders teamed  
__with Light in the West are meeting,  
__Old foes thought dead  
__or conquered are returning,  
__With only the Shadows  
__in the middle to save us all._

Another prophecy. There is another prophecy… and that is all that I can really think about.

Another prophecy… and I am filled with dread. I almost lost Harry (my lifemate, my soulmate) to the last prophecy. I fear what I will lose because of this one.

Another prophecy… just those words send shivers down my spine (just as the name Voldemort still does to most Wizards). I turn to glance at Harry then, making sure my involuntary response did not wake him, and I watch for a moment as he sleeps peacefully, curled up next to me.

The only time he can ever sleep peacefully is when I am near, though I am not still sure why. I have asked Harry about it before and all he would ever tell me was, "You soothe me."

And apparently I truly do, for the few times that I have not been there, he always had nightmares. Horrible nightmares… well, remembrances really because the things he dreams are not in fact dreams. They are memories of events Harry witnessed, either through his scar or in person. They are the very worst of his memories: memories of his time at the Dursleys, of the things Voldemort sent him through their link, of his _friends'_ betrayal… simply horrible memories. It is only when he sleeps, that Harry ever thinks of these things because it is only at this time that his mental shields lower enough for them surface in his mind. All other times, they are suppressed… and I cannot blame Harry for doing that. I wouldn't want to remember such things either.

Next to me, Harry stirs and I am shaken from my reverie. I once more look at him and realize that he looks so very peaceful. He looks content… something he never was at Hogwarts. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't the castle's fault. In fact, both Harry and I absolutely adore her and she us. But it was the people in the castle that made our time there miserable.

For me, it was my roommates. Every single one of them either hated or feared me. They despised me simply because I was different, because I saw the world differently. They would laugh at me, and steal my things (even my most precious of possessions, like my mother's engagement ring), and bewitch my bed, and do a hundred other horrible things. Simply because I was different.

And now these are the very same people that hold me in awe. They are awed of me because I was instrumental in Voldemort's downfall, because I bested Death Eaters (the same ones trained Aurors couldn't defeat), because I was the first person in over two hundred years to graduate a year early from Hogwarts because my grades and test scores were so high. They are awed of me because I took my N.E.W.T.S. a full year early and made an Outstanding on all of them (not even Granger or Dumbledore can say that). But, of course, the fact that I have the wonderful ability to remember almost everything without any effort did help me. Plus, the fact that I spent my entire last two years at the school being tutored (along with Harry) by Fawkes, the Sorting Hat, and the castle herself (that's why Harry had such high N.E.W.T.S. as well, I can still hardly believe that he had the highest grades of all the seventh years in the country and Europe for that matter).

Anyway, as horrible as my roommates (and a number of my Housemates) were to me at Hogwarts, my time there was like a pleasant dream compared to Harry's.

For him, it was the entire student body, the faculty and staff… hell, even the entire Wizarding World that made his school years like a stay in the ninth level of purgatory. To put it simply… well, actually there isn't really a way to put it simply. His life was hell there; it was filled with torment, mocking, backstabbers, betrayers, false friends, lies, pain, corruption, and even murder.

Harry will always look back on those times as not some of the best, but the very worst… not even his time at the Dursleys, where he was emotionally (and sometimes physically) abused, was that bad. Comparing Harry's Dursley experience to his at Hogwarts is like comparing a sprinkle to a monsoon.

The Dursleys were merely the opening act. The school was the real show.

And now it's happening again. Another prophecy is looming over our heads. Another prophecy is going to driven a wedge into the Wizarding World and separate it into factions. Only this time it isn't Harry vs. Voldemort vs. everyone else…

Oh, no. This time it is the Order vs. the Death Eaters vs. Us…

Us: Harry, me, Sirius, Remus, Hogwarts, Fawkes, and the rest… Us… an organization that doesn't even really have a name. An organization that isn't even really an organization, we are just a group of friends trying to do the right thing.

But do we truly even know the right thing anymore. To us, the right thing is uniting the magical world into one solid piece. It is ending the Wizard's prejudice against others, both Muggles and magical creatures. It is fostering peace and understanding between those considered to be Light and those despised as Dark. It is showing that Dark or different doesn't mean evil.

But now we have this prophecy and what we had hoped would be a nonviolent (albeit probably not very smooth) transition to understanding will soon degenerate into war, with us at the center trying to hold everything together.

And this time, we must battle both the Light and the Dark… with us being both (and yet neither) stuck in between. We will have few allies this time. We can't even depend on the treacherous Order or even the Ministry to help us in the slightest. All we have are each other and our contacts in the magical world (like the Were-wolf packs, the Vampire Clans, and the Circle of Circe).

But what can we do? How can we possibly win? Yes, I know that last time it was us… us not the Order or the Ministry that defeated Voldemort, it was us… but we still had help.

We are only the Grey and, yet, somehow we are supposed to be "the shadows in the middle" that will "save us all."

But how exactly are we supposed to do that? That is what I want to know… how can we do this?

We are few and they are many. How can we possibly fight both the Light and the Dark at the same time?

How?

I ask myself this question and somewhere deep inside I actually feel that it is the wrong one. Maybe what I should really be asking is not how…

but why.

* * *

Ever Hopeful, 

_Azar_


	14. Ironies of Fate

_**Ironies of Fate**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random thoughts or ideas

_Italics_: Thoughts and emphasis

Warnings: None

* * *

Fate is a tricky one, you know. She absolutely loves irony.

She gave me a simple task, an incredibly simple one really. I was to watch over the young of the wizarding world. I was to protect them and nurture them.

And I did just that. I did what I was assigned to do.

But Fate gave me another task, just one other… I was to protect the wizarding world. I was to save it from evil and corruption and lies and betrayal. Basically, I was to save it from itself.

For a time, I succeeded. I protected the wizards during the crisis with the Founders, in which Godric went mad and Salazar left the school. I protected the wizards during the countless uprisings of Dark Lords and Ladies – and a few Light Lords and Ladies as well. I protected them during their various wars against the goblins, the werewolves, the vampires, etc… wars that the wizards actually started.

But then the real challenge arrived, then he came… and his name … Albus Dumbledore.

I watched him, you know… the entire time. I watched as he schemed and plotted. I watched as he tore the wizarding world apart and tried to remake it in his image. I watched as he destroyed countless lives.

Sure, I tried to dissuade him. I tried to tell him that what he was doing was wrong – so very wrong – but it's not like he actually listened. Sure, I warned the magical world, but it's not like they listened either. They never do.

They just ignored me… ignored all of my warnings, my counsel, my concerns. They ignored me because, to them, I am nothing but an object, a thing. To them, I am not even truly alive and, most certainly, I am not considered a person. Even after one thousand years, I am still a thing to them, just a thing.

The irony is not lost on me. Fate simply loves irony.

I tried my best to stop him, you know, and when I discovered that I couldn't, I kept him here – with me – so that I could watch him. So that I could warn others of his actions. But, in the end, it just wasn't enough. Only a handful of people actually believed me and, even with all of us banding together, we just barely succeeded… and at such a terrible cost.

Some lost their freedom. Some lost their friends. Some lost their lives. But we succeeded. We won.

And now it is happening again. Now the evil is gathering again. The Light is tainted and the Darkness looms. _With only the Shadows in the middle to save us all. _

The Shadows… us… my friends and me… Fate has decreed that we will once again save the wizarding world from itself.

But this is a prophecy I am talking about… something notoriously ambiguous. For all I know, _the Shadows in the middle_ could be referring to the Circle of Circe or the Goblin Fire Brigade or the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare.

How am I to know that it refers to us?

But deep in my heart – or the thing inside me that passes for one – I know that it is us. It has to be… there really isn't anyone else willing to stand up against the onslaught.

The new war has already begun. The Order has been decimated, not once, but twice. First, in the attack that killed Tonks and three other members. Then, in the following attack a week later… the one that killed the head of the Weasley Clan, Arthur.

The Death Eaters are once more growing in number, for they are recruiting from around the world now… not just in Britain. They are becoming more aggressive too – if that is even possible. They have already launched two separate attacks on the Order, as well as one against the goblins and another against one of the vampire groups, the Noxius Clan.

As for the wizarding world itself… well, I can honestly say that it is no longer stagnating. Oh, no. It is not stagnating… it is _backsliding_. It is actually more prejudice and corrupt than it was before the entire Voldemort debacle. It is weaker too.

I find it highly amusing that the vaunted and oh-so-mighty wizards could not defend themselves against the Death Eaters – their own species by the way. While the "weak and worthless" goblins and vampires not only managed to hold back the evil-doers but actually defeated them, having no fatalities and few casualties during the attacks.

Isn't that just ironic?

I have this sneaking suspicion that Fate has it in for the wizards – well, at least most of them.

She, Fate, still likes Harry. I think that she feels guilty over the first prophecy; she probably feels bad about the second one as well. But Harry is her champion… the one that fights the good fight – and all the rest of that spiel – for her. Plus, he and his friends are basically the only ones willing to fulfill the blasted thing, so the job automatically goes to us.

But I don't think that we will be enough… not this time. We need help. We need allies.

Maybe Fate will be kind enough to send us some.

But, knowing our luck and Fate's love for irony, they won't be what we are expecting.

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

* * *

Special thanks _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta.


	15. Return of the DA

_**The Return of the DA**_

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random thoughts or ideas

_Italics_: Thoughts and emphasis

Warnings: None

* * *

"Dementors?"

"Yes, Dementors," I reply, my eye twitching with my growing annoyance.

"The Dementors want an alliance with us?"

"Yes," I repeat exasperatedly. "As do the Vampire Council, the Banshee Queen, the Goblin…" I am interrupted before I can continue.

"But we're not even a real organization! We can hardly promise them anything in return!" Sirius asserts vehemently.

"That's where you are wrong; we are an organization. We're the DA," I state proudly, ruffling my feathers.

"DA? I refuse to be known as part of Dumbledore's Army," Moody affirms loudly, his magical eye bulging.

"The DA doesn't stand for Dumbledore's Army… it means Defense Association," Harry interjects quickly, much to my relief.

Sybil adds, "Yes, the Defense Association, not Dumbledore's Army… that name just… ar…" Trelawney shivers at the thought. "Dumbledore's Army... that name just fills me with dread. I can't imagine ever wanting to be in anything with Dumbledore as the high and supreme leader. Having him lord over us at Hogwarts is bad enough."

From beside her, Filius nods his head in complete agreement. "At least there we have the School Ministers and Hogwarts herself to keep him in line. Can you imagine what he would be like without them?"

Remus actually shudders. "Actually, I don't think I want to imagine." He shakes his head. "But I think that we are off topic." He turns to address me, "Fawkes, what exactly did the Dementors say?"

I flutter my wings in thought. "Their message just said that they were interested in meeting, preferably on neutral ground. It proposed that we choose the location. I think they are trying to act in good faith."

"Hm… did it say that they wouldn't use their abilities against us?" Luna questions after a moment.

I nod. "Yes, it did mention that they wouldn't use their abilities during the meeting. Had a written oath that they wouldn't."

Harry adds, "But it's not like they can normally help it. They are cursed after all. The way I understand the curse to work, they have to draw forward the negative emotions of people. It's like a magical compulsion."

"So how are they not going to do that to us?" Sirius asks intently.

"They are sending the only one of their kind that is immune to the curse… Matthanias," I reply.

"Matthanias… hope," Luna whispers and all eyes focus on her. "Matthanias means hope," she clarifies. "He is the hope for his people that they can one day be as they were… not monsters that bring forth nightmares and despair, but the empaths they once were… ones that could use emotions and dreams to bring joy and healing."

"The Dementors were once like that?" Moody asks incredulously, his magical eye whirling in excitement.

"Yes," both the Sorting Hat and I answer simply.

Luna nods and explains, "Yes, they were, but they were cursed long ago. At one time they were able to do both… bring joy or despair; it was part of their nature as natural empaths. But they mostly chose to help others; apparently it hurts them just as much to bring forth the bad as it does us." She pauses, thinking how best to explain.

However, Harry picks up the thread of the conversation first. "They were approached by a group of Wizards long ago, ones that wanted the Dementors to use their gifts for evil purposes. When the Dementors refused, they were cursed. They were turned into the creatures you see today, the wretched monsters that literally suck the happiness out of the air," he finishes with a tired voice.

"Just how long ago was this?" Filius questions.

"Around one thousand years ago," the Sorting Hat replies, inserting itself in the discussion.

I continue, "About the time Hogwarts was built. She was very young when it happened, just recently created."

"Was she the one that told you?" Trelawney asks with her normal non-misty voice.

The Hat nods. I respond, "Yes. According to her, the Founders… Salazar and Helga in particular, were working on a counter-curse. But they never figured out how to cure them." I think for a moment. "Their notes on the subject are still intact if you want to look at them."

Harry and Luna look intrigued by the offer, as does Sybil.

Remus, however, looks confused. "Then how do you explain Matthanias?"

"Him... he was a natural occurrence. A fluke of nature, if you will. He is a special case." I sigh heavily.

"He is the first in over a thousand years that is curse-free," the Hat states. "Even they're not sure what exactly happened with him. All they know is that he is free."

The others nod, contemplating this new information.

"So he'll be the one they send," Harry reiterates; he glances at Luna, the wordless exchange passing too quickly for me to decipher.

"Yes," I reply. "They will probably send a few others, but you won't be around them much. You'll mostly be talking with Matthanias."

"A quick question then," Luna says.

I glance at her curiously.

Luna smiles before continuing. "Who are we sending?"

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

* * *

Special thanks _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta.


End file.
